


A Mabari's Promise

by tinktheloser



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, bean - Freeform, bean is a good boy, but like, from the perspective of the mabari, papa fenris, who doesn't like a papa fenris fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 15:52:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,148
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13744260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinktheloser/pseuds/tinktheloser
Summary: We follow the story of Bean, the loyal mabari to a fallen Hawke, as he looks after the small, broken pack she left behind.Then, a letter arrives.





	A Mabari's Promise

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in the works for close to a year. I was originally going to post it all in one chapter, but it got waaaay too long for that, so it'll be a few chapters. Or something.

I licked my lips, staring intently at the dwarf woman behind the stand. Saliva dripped from the corners of my mouth, wobbling when my tongue passed over my teeth. To her credit, the woman didn’t budge, staring anywhere except in my direction.

The hunks of druffalo meat swayed on the lines from where they were hung, freshly cut and incredibly enticing. Close by were barrels of what smelled like dried meats, probably fish and more drufallo. I didn’t move, even as merchants and market-goers drifted and pushed around me.

The woman—Daisy, I think was her name—continued ripping jerky into smaller, more packable slices. To the side were discarded bones, stripped of their meat, varying from druffalo to ram to fennec. I had my eye on the druffalo femur, and maybe some of the jerky if I was convincing enough.

Daisy, however, refused to even acknowledge my existence. She kept her eyes glued to her work, focused and intent.

I inched forward, resettling on my haunches, letting out a quiet whine for extra effect.

Her eyes slid over to me before quickly looking back, determined to ignore me. Her freckled brow was furrowed, lips pursed into a frown. She ripped a few more slices, storing them neatly in brown packages.

I uttered a small, quiet, _boof._

“Oh for sodding— _fine_ ,” Daisy snapped, dropping the jerky slices to the table and throwing her hands in the air. With a glare, she reached for the druffalo femur and held it up. “This what you want?”

I stood up and barked, tail wiggling and ears perked.

“Here, then, you great brute,” she said, tossing it over the stand.

I jumped, catching the bone neatly in my mouth. Giving Daisy an appreciative look, I twirled around as a thank you.

“That is disgustingly cute,” Daisy said, putting her hands on her hips. “Now scram, before you lose me more business.”

If I didn’t have a bone in my mouth, I’d have barked a reply. Instead, I wiggled my tail again, then turned and bounded through the small market crowd.

The village Fenris and my Partner had picked was a small, unnoticeable one, tucked away in a wide basin valley. It was quiet enough to hide away from public eye, but busy enough to not draw attention from the village itself. It hadn’t necessarily been a secret that the Champion had decided to live here, but the locals either didn’t know or they didn’t care if the lack of fuss was any indication.

A group of children ran past me, a couple of them pausing to pat my head. I wagged my tail at them and nudged their sides with my nose before pressing on. Their giggles faded behind me, the dust they kicked up settling on my fur.

I passed a baker holding a basket of freshly made loaves. The warm scent washed over me and I closed my eyes for a moment, padding in place as he set the basket down on a stand. He glanced over at me, then ripped a piece of a roll and tossed it to me. I lowered my front, leaving my tail in the air to wag as I dropped the bone to pick up the torn piece. With a happy bark to the baker, I lapped it up and ate it. He laughed, then patted my head when I approached him and briefly pressed my side to him.

With that, I bounded back to the bone and picked it up between my teeth, trotting away with his farewell at my back.

Finally, I caught the scent of Fenris, of his cool lyrium, and of the smiling, bright Pup holding his hand. They stood at a merchant stand selling bundles of cloth, Fenris bargaining while Pup playfully tugged at his hand. To his credit, he didn’t look down, though he gently swat back at her while continuing the bargain.

Pup looked up as I weaved through the crowd towards them.

“Bean-Bean!” she exclaimed, letting go of Fenris’ hand and ambling to me. I bumped her tiny chest with my forehead, careful of the bone. She giggled, grabbing at my ears and tugging at my cheeks. “You got a bone!”

Fenris looked away from the merchant as they wrapped the cloth in a bundle. He raised a brow at the bone in my mouth.

“Must you harass the butcher?” he asked, dryly.

I dropped the bone, carefully, and barked at him, my tail wagging.

“May she find peace far away from you,” was his response as he dropped his hand on my head.

Pup picked up the bone and tapped my muzzle with it. I dropped my front legs in a play stance, my rump wiggling in the air. She laughed, tossed in the air, and laughed again when I caught it in my mouth.

“Good Bean-Bean!”

She took the bone from my mouth again, and I licked her small nose. It looked like Partner’s. Her eyes were a dark hazel, like her father’s. My tongue slid across her dark, freckled skin, and she giggled as she pushed my muzzle away.

Fenris placed a hand behind her back and nudged her forward.

“Come, we must send these to your aunt,” he said, holding up the bundle of cloth.

“Aunty Varania?” Pup squeaked, sliding her hand into this.

“Yes,” Fenris responded. “She’s anxious to fit you with new clothes, since you’re outgrowing your entire wardrobe.”

I padded along behind them, nosing Pup’s back any time she slowed down to look at something on the ground, or in the trees. She was quite distractible, something she must have gotten from her mother. Or, rather, it might have been something in all children. But I remembered when Partner would stall the party to look through some bushes every so often, or loot through discarded sacks. I’d always taken entertainment from it, even if the party members did not. She’d always given me the old, tattered scarves to chew on.

“What’s Aunty gonna make for me?” she asked, swinging Fenris’ hand.

“A few dresses, I would assume,” he replied. “Perhaps some breeches for you to grow in as well.”

“I like breeches!”

“As you would.”

* * *

 A small pair of hands grasped my fur between little fingers. I made a huffing noise, turning my head around—though my head barely left the ground I was currently napping on—to find Pup attempting to scale my backside. She’d gotten much better at it over the past few years, though I suspected it had more to do with her rapidly growing size.

I snuffed at her, poking my nose at her bare leg. She giggled, reached down and patted the top of my head.

There were vague memories—foggy flashes, more like—of the time when my Partner was that age, though a few summers older than Pup was now. I’d only just been weaned from Mother, old enough to pick a partner. Partner had been a loud, playful pup, the perfect match for me. And now her pup was more or less the same, much to Fenris’ dismay.

While I collected gray on my muzzle and a stiffness in my hips, Pup was only just nearing six summers, and she looked the size for it. But though she was still small, she’d hit a growth spurt within the past few months, hence the need for Varania’s assistance. So far, she’s mostly sent dresses with sturdy fabric that could be played in. Which was convenient for me. I’d long since outgrown the need to teethe, but if Pup didn’t mind me occasionally chewing on the hems of her dirtied dresses then I wasn’t going to argue.

The dress she wore now was riding up her backside as she clambered on top of me, and she had no care for the undercloth now exposed to the household.

I snuffed again, careful not to move and throw off Pup’s precarious balance.

Cool lyrium drifted from the doorway, signaling Fenris’ entrance. Sweat and dirt and green scents also clung to him, making my nose twitch. He’d been working in the garden.

The door opened with a quiet scrape of wood, and his scent intensified. I raised my head as he rounded the corner, a cloth sack over his shoulder and dirt trickling from his clothes. There was also a letter in his hand. It smelled of strange humans. And a mule. My nose twitched again, ears flicking back. I smelled worry on him, but not in such a way to raise an alarm.

Fenris glanced at me and Pup, who was pretending to be riding me into a battle of sorts. She was making impressive sound imitations, her lips pressing together in concentration and opening to sound a charge. I didn’t move at her order, but at her satisfied clapping it seemed her troops were victorious anyway.

Fenris’ lip twitched, the worried scent dwindling a little.

“Are you the Hero of Ferelden?” he asked Pup as she leaned forward, pointing menacingly at an imaginary foe. Fenris set the sack on the floor, leaning it on the wall. A couple of potatoes rolled out. My ears flicked forward in interest. “Or is it Shartan today?”

“Nope!” Pup exclaimed. She rolled off my back. “I’m Cap’in of the Guard!”

“Captain Aveline, I presume?”

“Papa, Roger sometimes plays Donnic. Do you wanna be Donnic?”

A surprised laugh burst from Fenris’ throat. “Only if Donnic can stay in the kitchen for now, he has a dinner to prepare.”

“Okay Papa Donnic!”

I still eyed the fallen potatoes, vaguely hoping that Fenris would accidentally leave one. They didn’t taste like much raw, but it was still something to chew on. And, even better, I could eat it when I was done.

I bit back a whine when he picked the sack up again, fallen potatoes and all. Instead, I heaved a disappointed sigh.

“Bean-Bean!” Pup giggled and patted my nose. “Let’s go outside!”

I lifted my head and nosed her chin. She kissed my muzzle, and I licked her back. Outside sounded nice.

“Stay where I can see you, Leah,” Fenris called from the kitchen.

“Yes Papa!”

With a huff, I pushed myself to my feet and shook out my fur, followed Pup’s lead out the door and into the garden.

It had been nearly three summers since Partner left for the East, where the mountains stood tall and dark whispers from the hole in the sky made my hackles rise. That year, the air had smelled of crisp magic, and of a foul taint, a rot much like the creatures underground.

Partner hadn’t wanted to go, and Fenris had tried to make her stay. Pup was too small for her mother to leave. I’d agreed with Fenris. I didn’t want my Partner to leave, especially if she insisted on going alone. Without _me_ , even. When Partner did things “on her own”, she’d always, _always_ taken me along. An extra set of fangs between her and trouble.

But then, early one morning, Partner left on a horse while Fenris held onto my collar. I’d struggled against his grip, whining and crying and barking as my Partner’s scent faded into the distance. Pup was wailing in his arms. I’d wanted to help her but my Partner was _leaving_ and I needed to be _with her—_

I don’t remember what Fenris had felt, or said. Just that he smelled of salt, the kind that you lick from your Partner’s face when their eyes are red and puffy.

Pup was now twirling in the grass, her arms splayed out to keep her balance. She giggled, her dark hair tangling in the wind that carried the scent of rain. I turned my head to the wind. The storms wouldn’t get here until at least a day from now, so I turned back and nudged Pup with my nose. She cackled, stumbling against me and leaning with her tiny weight as she regained her balance. Then she clambered up on my back, patting my head as she did so.

I pounced around as she so directed, enjoying her squeals of glee. We faced the Great Tree Stump, a vicious foe of cunning evil and hidden power. Pup rallied her invisible forces against the Stump. When she slid off my back and stood upon the stump, stamping it with her bare foot for emphasis, we knew we’d won the battle.

I panted, stretching my legs to ease the stiffness in my hips. The smells of cooked potatoes and greens wafted from the open window of the kitchen. It’d be ready soon, though Pup would take some convincing to go back inside. She rolled in the grass now, picking at flowers sprouting from the ground. I padded over to her, nosing her hair and licking some of the dirt from her face. She giggled, swiping at me playfully.

Then, my head lifted before I registered what I was smelling. A human, stranger, male sweaty dirty and lots of old paper and leather. I let out a bark, a warning for both the human and my Packmate. It was odd. Fenris had already received his messages for today. Was this human returning? No, this was a different human. He was still far down the path, but the wind carried his scent.

“Leah, come back inside,” Fenris called from the window. He was leaning out, peering down the path at the human.

“But Papa—!” Pup protested, lifting her head from the grass.

“Do not argue,” Fenris said. He turned from the window, and my ears twitched forward to catch the sounds of clinking metal.

I nudged Pup’s side, urging her to stand up. She reluctantly obeyed, wrapping her small fingers around my collar as I led her back to the house. The door opened as Fenris emerged. He glanced down at me.

“Bean, keep her inside,” he said, his voice low. He was wearing his belt, hidden by his tunic. The harsh scent of metal made my nose twitch, but a hidden dagger was a decent amount of protection. At least he hadn’t brought out his sword.

I snuffed, nudging Pup again, and led her to the fireplace.

The door closed behind him, but I perked my ears to hear through the aging wood.

That human must have been the slow sort. Fenris waited outside as the shadows of the trees and the window pane moved across the floor.

Pup busied herself with a handmade doll that had been lying about on the floor. I licked Pup’s ear, where the flesh came to a soft point. Her ears weren’t as long as Fenris’, but not as round as Partner’s had been either. She giggled at my wet tongue, turning her face to lick me back.

My ears perked up again when a voice spoke outside.

“—urgent news, he says you’ll want to see this,” a strange voice said. The human. His voice was rough, tired from travel. I hoped we wouldn’t have to house him. There was an inn in the village anyway.

“And Varric sent you?” Fenris responded. “I just received word from him—”

“Look, I don’t know the details, he just wanted you to get this letter faster than the one you just got.”

I lowered my head. I didn’t like letters anymore, particularly from Varric. I did love the dwarf, and he often sent uplifting news from Kirkwall. But ever since three summers ago, when _that_ letter came, smelling of mountains and magic and tears and _taint_ , I stopped enjoying the news he sent.

I closed my eyes for a moment. Three summers was a long time, but I still missed her scent.

“What does that mean?” Fenris demanded. He sounded worried. My throat closed around a whine. I shouldn’t upset Pup.

“He didn’t say,” the man replied gruffly. “Everything’s in the letter, apparently.”

There was a pause, a shuffling of paper, and then Fenris spoke again. “Thank you.”

The door opened, and I caught a glimpse of the strange man turning back towards the path. Fenris stepped inside, a new letter in hand. The wax seal had been messily applied, different than Varric’s usual neatness. Fenris stared at the envelope for a moment, still idly holding the door open.

“Papa?” Pup squeaked. “Who was that? What’d he want?”

“He was a messenger,” Fenris replied, letting the door close behind him.

“Did we get letters?”

“Yes.” Fenris looked up from the letter to his daughter. Worry wafted from him, but he covered it with a small smile as he tucked the letter into his pouch. “It is nothing to be concerned about now. Go wash your hands, dinner is nearly ready.”

When Pup padded into the kitchen, I slowly approached him and butted my head against his leg. His fingers stroked my ears, and I looked up at him. There were small wrinkles around his eyes now, and the dark circles hadn’t completely disappeared from his sleepless nights those few summers ago. His lips were pursed into a grimace, ears pressed down, tired and worried. He took the letter back out of his pouch, opened it, and sat near the fireplace. I rested my head on his shoulder, looking at the letter as he read it. I couldn’t read, but I could recognize Varric’s neat handwriting.

Fenris took a few minutes to read it, longer than Partner would have needed, but he was finishing it as Pup called to him from the kitchen.

Fenris let out a sigh as he lowered the letter. Then he looked at me. I leaned forward and licked his cheek, and he patted the side of my muzzle.

“It appears that we’re needed at Skyhold,” he told me.

I whined.  

* * *

_A knock sounded on the wooden door, echoing through the silent household. I made no move to get up and investigate, my ear twitching toward the sound being the only sign of interest._

_Fenris, laying on the couch from where he hadn’t moved in hours, didn’t budge. He glanced in my direction, his swollen eyes reflecting in the dim firelight._

_I didn’t respond with anything._

_The knocking continued, this time more insistent._

_I slid my head towards the door, though I did not lift it. Fenris merely turned to the side, brushing the bottle of wine on the floor with his fingers._

_As the knocking persisted, I considered getting up and chasing the intruder away. Pup was still asleep, and waking her up in this way would benefit no one. But I didn’t have to make that choice after all._

_The door creaked open, and my nose was filled with the scent of spice and new fabric._

_“Le— Fenris, are you here?”_

_Fenris stiffened visibly, his head jerking up from the couch. Sharp footsteps drew closer, and a pale, elvhen woman appeared around the corner. Her hair was red, tightly bound in a bun, and she clutched a bit of her dress in her hand, nervous._

_“Varania?” Fenris spoke, standing. “What are you doing here?”_

_The tone of his voice, sharp and defensive, made my backside tingle as my hackles rose. I didn’t yet make to growl, though, not until this woman proved hostile._

_Varania looked at Fenris, her eyes scanning him up and down, taking in his disheveled clothing and pasty complexion. Her brow furrowed, lips pursed, but she didn’t back down._

_“I heard about what happened,” she said, straightening. “I came to offer assistance.”_

_“Assistance?” Fenris echoed, his lip curling. “Why would_ you _care?”_

_Her grip on her dress tightened, and I caught a tremor in her fist, but her voice remained even._

_“I know it’s too late for any sort of apology, and there’s nothing I can do to make up for my past actions,” she spoke. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, nor should you.”_

_I was almost impressed. It sounded sincere enough, if a bit rehearsed. Fenris, however, only tightened his jaw._

_“But I hear I have a niece,” she continued. “I understand if you don’t want to include me in the family, but at least let me take care of some things for you.”_

_“And what, have you take her to Tevinter while I’m not looking? Prod her for any sort of magic so you can find a foothold with the magisters? I think not,” Fenris spat, turning away from her and pacing._

_Varania’s jaw clenched, and she swallowed. I could faintly hear her pounding heart, could smell her nerves turning into sweat around her palms. But—she did not reek of hostile intent. I kept my eyes on her, curious._

_“Toddlers don’t make good magisters, I’m afraid,” she said quietly, dryly. “And I haven’t been to Tevinter for quite some time, I somehow doubt I’d be able to find decent work there anymore.”_

_An amused snort escaped my nose. Varania glanced down at me, only just now aware of my presence. Her eyes widened, and her heartrate increased for a moment, but calmed down when she saw that I was making no move towards her._

_Fenris had turned back to face her, his eyes narrowed. “And I’m supposed to believe that you come here with honest intentions? There aren’t any slavers around waiting to pick up my bounty?”_

_“I had your bounty nulled, if that means anything to you.”_

_That took Fenris aback. His crossed arms fell to his side, though his gaze remained firm, intent. He glanced over at me, where I lay by the fireplace, unmoved. I huffed, conveying my disinterest. Apparently, that was enough for him, as he looked back at Varania._

_“Then why_ are _you here?” he asked lowly._

_“As I said,” Varania replied. She straightened her dress, despite it already being impeccable. “I’d like to offer my assistance. My—your daughter needs to be looked after as you take time to grieve.”_

_Fenris’ eyes flashed. “You think I cannot take care of my own daughter?” he hissed, his voice rising. I gave him a warning_ boof _, telling him to keep it down. He paused, quieted, but didn’t back down._

_“I think you are perfectly capable,” Varania responded evenly. Her foot had shifted, as though she’d wanted to take a step back, but she remained steady. “But if you continue to neglect yourself like this—” she gestured to his current state, “—your daughter will lose more than just her mother.”_

_It was a heavy blow, and I watched as Fenris blinked and stepped backward, his hand reaching for something to lean on. He found the dresser behind him, and he rested his elbow on it, breathing deeply._

_Neither of them spoke for a moment. From Pup’s room, I heard a faint stirring, a bubbling murmur as Pup dreamed on. She wouldn’t wake just yet. I sighed in relief._

_“What do you get from this?” Fenris finally spoke._

_Varania paused, clasping her hands in front of her where Fenris could see._

_“I still have difficulty thinking of you as my brother,” she said softly. “You are clearly no longer Leto. But you are still blood, and mother loved you. She’d want her granddaughter to be taken care of.”_

_Fenris laughed, but it was an empty thing. “So you’re doing this not from the grace of your heart, but for our dead mother?”_

Our _dead mother, I noted he’d said._

_Varania’s nostrils flared, and she raised her chin._

_“You asked,” she said. “I answered. Take what you will.”_

* * *

I remembered the name Skyhold, spoken with anxious lips and furrowed brows just before Partner had left. Then the name came from praise and hope from the villagers, even as Fenris paced the house every day waiting for his mate to come home.

Then Skyhold was spoken in sorrow, when news came down the mountain that my Partner would never come home.

Whatever Skyhold was, I didn’t like it. It took my Partner from me. I’d enjoy marking territory in its gardens, if it had any. Maybe digging holes where they grew their food. I didn’t, however, feel it necessary to actually _go_ there. It was a Bad Place, and I needed to keep Pup away from Bad Places.

But Fenris was packing the next day, gathering clothes and supplies in various sacks. A horse stood outside, neighing softly, just bought from the village. She was saddled, some packs already secured to her side. I sniffed at the horse, careful to keep my distance if she was a skittish one. But she only lowered her head and sniffed me back. I licked her muzzle, and she tossed her head back and blew air through her nose.

She seemed nice.

Fenris emerged from the house, adorning a travel cloak. Pup waddled out beside him, her hand in his. She also wore a small cloak, over a warm dress. She rubbed at her eyes, sleepily looking up at the horse.

“It’s big,” she said.

“It is,” Fenris agreed. “We will be traveling on it.”

“Like Mama?”

Fenris paused, his ears lowering just a little. “Yes.”

I peered at Pup. I hadn’t known that she’d remembered the day Partner had left. I padded over and butted Pup with my head. She giggled and kissed my nose.

Fenris secured the rest of the supplies to the horse, then lifted Pup and settled her into the saddle.

“We will walk for a ways so you can get accustomed to the movement,” Fenris said as he directed Pup in how to sit on horse. “But we will have to move faster later.”

“Okay Papa,” Pup replied. I smelled her fear, her eyes wide as she stared down at me. From up there, she must have felt that she towered over the ground. Fenris murmured reassurances to her, though she didn’t release her tight grip of the saddle.

When she was relatively settled, she asked, “Why does Uncle Varric wanna see us?”

Fenris paused, tightening a stirrup. “He says he found something for us,” he eventually relented. “It may have belonged to your mother.”

Pup’s eyes widened, and my ears perked up. He hadn’t mentioned this before. Was it her staff? Her pack? What was so important to summon us all the way there?

After locking the door and securing the rest of the house, Fenris looked down at me.

“Bean, can you keep up?” he asked.

I barked, standing up, ears perked and tongue lolling.

“Very well.”

* * *

I felt that I should have warned Fenris about the oncoming storm, but I suppose it slipped my mind at one point. That, and Fenris unfortunately didn’t understand me as much as Partner had, so he wouldn’t have known what I was trying to tell him anyway.

Still, I felt a little bad when the light drizzle suddenly turned into a downpour, with thunder clapping behind the darkening clouds.

Pup, with her hood secure over her head, whimpered at the great noise, shivering in the saddle. Fenris stopped the horse under a sheltered tree for a moment, rummaging through his supplies for something, before pulling a blanket out of one of the packs and wrapping it tightly around Pup. I snuffed, nodding in approval.

“I wanna go home, Papa,” Pup cried. Her whole body shook.

I saw Fenris’ grimace under his hood, and he leaned to wrap his arm around Pup for a moment.

“We will, Leah,” he said to her softly. “But not yet. Can you wait a little longer?”

“How long?” Pup sniffled.

“A little over a week. Perhaps longer, if we’re needed.”

I wasn’t sure if Pup quite understood how long a week was, judging by how much her face scrunched up at the news. But she eventually nodded.

“Okay Papa.”

Then, Fenris slid off the horse, turning her toward what looked to be a village in the distance. I padded up to him and shook my fur of excess water, soaking him even further. He gave me a flat look. He then grimaced at the cold mud he was trudging in, barefoot. But with a sigh, he moved on, pointed in the direction of the faintly glowing village.

The village was small, quaint, and consisted of a single inn. As long as it was dry and warm, I wouldn’t make any complaints about it. Fenris led the horse into the stable, where a stable hand offered to take her for the night. Fenris nodded, picking Pup out of the saddle and untying the wet packs from the horse’s side. Lightning flashed overhead, and Pup flinched, reaching for me in the dim light. Then the thunder cracked and Pup whimpered into my fur. I licked her wet face.

The inn, thankfully, was _quite_ warm, with a roaring fire to the side and food wafting to my twitching nose. Saliva pooled in my mouth. I hoped I’d be getting whatever it was I was smelling.

Since it was still Ferelden, mabari were still free to go inside anywhere. Some of the funny-smelling Free Marchers had turned their noses up at me back at Kirkwall—something about how I smelled, which was _rude_ —but here, I had free reign to do as I pleased. Within reason.

While Fenris was busy paying for a room, I listened to the patrons, sniffed at them for anything interesting. It was mostly alcohol, but also sweat. And human gas.

“—oi, but wasn’t the Champion of Kirkwall in on all that?”

My ears perked. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Fenris’ ears also flick towards the voice, though he remained facing forward.

“The Inquisition? Yeah for bit, I think. Then something or another happened at Adamant, I dunno, think she died—”

A low whine crept up my throat, drawing Pup’s attention. I hadn’t meant to do that, so I shook my head and quietly accepted her pets.

“Didn’t the Inquisition disband after that?”

“Nooo, no that wasn’t until last year, after some, uuuh, _incident_ in Orlais.”

“Well, _I_ heard that the Inquisitor was still up to some stuff, somethin’ fishy.”

I was losing interest in the conversation, having been blindsided by the mention of my Partner. Still, it was good to hear whatever lousy gossip they had available.

“You always think someone’s doing somethin’ fishy.”

“Haven’t you noticed how a bunch of _elves_ are just? Up and leaving? It’s not right, I say.”

“So you think the Inquisitor is behind it, just because she’s an elf?”

“Nooo, ‘course not, but it just seems a bit too, mmm, _coincidental._ ”

Fenris tapped the side of my head. I looked up, blinking at his dark glower. He sent the poor sods a weak glare, but turned to the stairs instead, picking up Pup as he went. She looked over his shoulder at me, grinning as I plodded up the stairs behind them.

It stormed through the night and into the morning, but I didn’t mind staying in the warm room. The fireplace was quite nice, anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Conveniently overheard conversation in a tavern is convenient. 
> 
> (hope you liked it)


End file.
